


I Can Love You Much Better (You Know Some Day I'm Gonna Make You Mine)

by patdkitten



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Harry has a three year old daughter, Kidfic, Liam is mentioned as the principal, Louis whines to Eleanor a lot, M/M, Mild Angst, Original Character(s), and Nick is Harry's friend, doctor!harry, nursery school teacher!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3270131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patdkitten/pseuds/patdkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The young man starts to extend his hand to Louis, mouth open to say something, but Louis beats him to the punch.</p><p>“Hey, do you know when the doctor's going to be in?”</p><p>The man smiles, trying to hide it behind his clipboard. In Louis' experience, when a health professional smiles, it's hardly genuine and barely meeting their eyes, but this man's smile definitely reaches his eyes. It's actually really endearing, and so very cute. Cute nurses, who would've guessed?</p><p>“I'm sorry to disappoint you if you were expecting someone a bit older,” the young man finally says, still smiling so endearingly. Which, no. Louis is not supposed to be endeared by a baby doctor. Baby doctors should be like, paediatricians and treating actual babies, not treating adults.</p><p>Although now, Louis is <i>definitely</i> entertaining the mental image of playing Sexy Doctor with this baby doctor, and he doesn't even know the man's name.</p><p> </p><p>Louis is a nursery school teacher who meets a cute doctor before school starts and winds up with said cute doctor's little girl in his class. He's pretty sure that he's screwed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Love You Much Better (You Know Some Day I'm Gonna Make You Mine)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1dinourbed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1dinourbed/gifts).



> Some notes:
> 
> \- Title is from Love You Much Better by The Hush Sound  
> \- Beta'd by the super quick T, who is a godsend and was a bit leery of some of this going in. God. Send.  
> \- for the prompt: kidfic au! harry has a 3 year old daughter and louis is her teacher. they hit it off but they're too scared to do anything. but they end up getting together anyways. (smut, angst, daddy kink, bottom!harry, top!louis.)  
> I'm pretty sure this isn't nearly as angsty as it might've been, and daddy kink is a new one for me (expand boundaries!) But I hope you enjoy it anyway :) It was certainly fun to write!
> 
> Also, I should mention that Harry's scrubs are actual scrubs. They're all women's scrubs, but it felt far more appropriate for him. :)  
> [Sea Paparazzi scrubs](http://www.uniformadvantage.com/pages/prod/sea-paparazzi-fresh-mint-top.asp?1=1&navbar=2&frmcolor=)  
> [Monkey scrubs](http://www.uniformadvantage.com/pages/prod/monkey-see-print-scrub-top.asp?1=1&navbar=2&frmcolor=)  
> [Ariel scrubs](http://www.uniformadvantage.com/pages/prod/sea-friends-turquoise-top.asp?1=1&navbar=2&frmcolor=)

As a teacher, the school year officially starts for Louis about a month before school actually starts: in the doctor's office. The thing is, Louis absolutely loathes the doctor as a rule, but in order to keep his teaching license, he's got to keep his immunizations up to date. He wishes that parents had the same idea, making sure that their children didn't make other kids sick, but he can't really enforce such a rule. He'd certainly like to. It'd make his life so much easier.

The other downside to keeping up his immunizations is equally a nuisance. The physician that Louis had been seeing since he first came down from Doncaster retired at the end of the last school year and Louis had only found out about it when he'd had to set up this appointment.

He'd griped about it to his mum when he'd found out, citing the fact that some stranger was going to have important details about his life and he wasn't on board with that. His mum, patron saint of motherly patience as far as Louis was concerned, had pointed out that Louis' health records had been known by a stranger when he'd first gone to his old doctor and would be known by another stranger when he changed doctors. Johannah might love her son dearly, but Louis had detected an undertone of 'man up' in her voice.

The strange doctor and needing updated immunizations aside, the thing Louis hates the most about the doctor's office is the wait. He's already had to wait half an hour out in the waiting room, and he's been waiting in the exam room for ten minutes when the door finally opens and a young man walks in. He's got curly brown hair and big green eyes, wearing a bright turquoise scrub top covered in brightly coloured aquatic animals, some that are carrying flashing cameras, and turquoise scrub pants. He's also carrying a few folders and a clipboard.

The young man starts to extend his hand to Louis, mouth open to say something, but Louis beats him to the punch.

“Hey, do you know when the doctor's going to be in?”

The man smiles, trying to hide it behind his clipboard. In Louis' experience, when a health professional smiles, it's hardly genuine and barely meeting their eyes, but this man's smile definitely reaches his eyes. It's actually really endearing, and so very cute. Cute nurses, who would've guessed?

“I'm sorry to disappoint you if you were expecting someone a bit older,” the young man finally says, still smiling so endearingly. Which, no. Louis is not supposed to be endeared by a baby doctor. Baby doctors should be like, paediatricians and treating actual babies, not treating adults.

Although now, Louis is _definitely_ entertaining the mental image of playing Sexy Doctor with this baby doctor, and he doesn't even know the man's name.

“I'm Doctor Styles...” the young man begins as if he's aware of Louis' thoughts, sitting down in one of the chairs in the small exam room, glancing briefly at his clipboard like he's trying to gather facts he thought he'd already had memorized. “Mr. Tomlinson, is it?”

It takes Louis a few moments to realise that the last is a question actually directed at him. Doctor Styles talks with such a slow, measured voice that it's hard to tell when he's done talking. He shakes himself when he realises that the doctor is waiting for a response that probably doesn't involve the fact Louis would definitely be a fan of bending over and having a prostate exam and they haven't even been properly introduced. Which, again, no. What the hell. “Uh, Mr. Tomlinson is my dad outside of the school year. Louis' fine.”

Doctor Styles smiles again, clicking a pen and making a note on his clipboard. “You're a teacher then?” He opens the folder he'd brought in, pen scanning a bit. “Says you're due for boosters.”

“Uh, yeah. Nursery school.” Louis finds himself laughing, the sound far more flirty than he means to, despite his rather naughty thoughts, but he's not dead and he's certainly not in a relationship. “Next month's first day of class.”

“My daughter's starting nursery school next month!” Doctor Styles chirps, his smile getting wider, if possible, and Louis finds himself wanting to fit his thumbs in the dimples that appear. Then his mind catches up with the rest of him. Daughter. In nursery school. Doctor Styles probably married his college sweetheart and they started young.

The young cute Doctor Styles is definitely off any list Louis might've put him on. Pity.

The rest of the appointment after that goes about as well as can be expected: poorly.

 

The rather disastrous – or so Louis eventually convinces himself – appointment is still with him nearly a month later. It's a few days before classes actually begin, and the teachers have been busy getting last minute details ready for their various classrooms.

Louis' gone for a jungle theme in his classroom this year and he's got it mostly done. He tells himself that he just needs a break away from his duties as an adult and a professional.

Which is why he's half sprawled forward on his fellow teacher, Ms. Calder's, desk. Eleanor, for her part, is mostly ignoring him and the mild rant he's been on since he first flopped on her desk nearly twenty minutes ago. Some of the rant has been about not wanting school to start in a few days as well as how small his classroom feels compared to usual, but he's also pretty sure he's mentioned Doctor Curly Styles – he never actually caught the good doctor's first name, but it hasn't stopped the vivid fantasies in the month since – and the very high possibility that his daughter will be going to their school.

“What if I have her in my class?” Louis whines for the third time in about as many minutes. He lifts his head just in time to watch Eleanor mark off a couple items from a checklist she'd been perusing. He actually envies El's ability to be so organized, even as much as he hates it. He's just a naturally messy person and he's not much better than his kids. Every year that Principal Payne doesn't consider Louis' classroom a safety hazard is a good year. “El, are you even listening to me?”

Eleanor's brown eyes lift off the checklist to land on him before she makes a rather slow show of taking a bite of carrot stick and takes a sip of her tea. The carrot sticks seem to be her lunch today and things like that are on the list of reasons why Louis is firmly in the 'definitely gay' part of the spectrum; he just does not understand how carrot sticks, celery and a bit of salad dressing constitutes a suitable lunch and yet nearly every woman he's met seems to think it does. Louis' just about to say something when Eleanor finally speaks.

“Hi, Eleanor,” she says, voice crisp and clipped and it's just enough to make him feel guilty because he hadn't actually greeted her when he'd come in and thrown himself on her desk. He's about to parrot her when she goes on. “How was your summer? Hi, Louis. My summer was great.” She gathers some scattered paper, taps them into a neat little pile and takes another bite of carrot stick. “I had a few dates, met someone real nice.”

Louis props himself up on his forearms and blinks at her, his own complaints temporarily forgotten. “Really? You met someone?”

Eleanor gives him a withering look, pointing at her door with another carrot stick. “Get out of my classroom, Tomlinson.”

 

The Doctor Styles problem is beginning to fade from Louis' mind a few days later when class actually starts. As much as Louis hates the prep work, setup and all that has to be done to get ready for the school year, he really does love the very first day of school when he gets to meet the kids he'll be teaching.

His pupils are always three year olds, and really, that's the perfect age for children as far as he's concerned. By that age, kids are very nearly potty trained, they're full of questions and – his personal favourite – three year olds are both brutally honest and uproariously funny. At three, children lack the filter adults have, so they're far more willing to say whatever's on their mind. Especially when they can get a laugh out of it.

Louis relates to three year olds way more than he probably should, so he's always super excited to start meeting the kids.

He's met about half of his class – a healthy mix of both shy and open kids like usual – when a little girl with a mess of brown curls and big doe eyes comes running in and giggling wildly.

“Beat you, Daddy!” She yells to someone behind her, turning. Louis' got his mouth open to scold her for running and yelling – rules that he enforces in his classroom – but all thoughts drop from his mind when Doctor Styles comes jogging in.

“Hello again, Mr. Tomlinson, was it?” Doctor Styles smiles when he sees Louis standing in the middle of his classroom, looking much like a fish out of water. Doctor Styles is wearing silver scrubs this time, with happy little monkeys swinging from tree branches all over the top. He ruffles the little girl's mop of curls. “This is Darcy, my little girl. Guess she's in your class then, huh?”

Looking at the pair of them, Darcy Styles looks like a miniature version of her father.

Louis is both so endeared and so, so fucked.

 

“Eleanor, I've got her in my class!”

Eleanor looks over her class plans at Louis, once more sprawled over her desk. She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she lowers her paperwork.

“Am I really your only friend, Lou, either here or in general?”

Louis coughs, pulling himself up. He feels more than a bit sheepish because this _is_ the second time he's run to her with this problem of his, and he can hear the sheepishness in his voice when he answers. “No, of course not.”

She organizes some paperwork, keeping her eyes focused on him. “As fascinating as your love life apparently is, Lou, I actually don't care about it when you take absolutely no interest in mine.”

He hesitates briefly before brightly asking, “How's your love life then? Still with that nice someone you met over the summer?”

Eleanor lays her paperwork down before leaning forward so her face is in Louis'. “Get out of my classroom until you can learn some manners.”

 

Louis isn't sure how he manages to mentally survive the first few months of the term. It's not the fault of his kids; his kids are really fantastic, eager to learn new songs and games and listen to all the great stories at story time.

The problem is the father of one of his kids: Doctor Styles. It's not that it's unusual to get to know the parents of Louis' kids; over the course of a term, he tends to know which parents are together, which are getting separated, and whose new partner will be picking the child up at the end of the day. What _is_ unusual is that it's nearly always Doctor Styles picking up little Darcy. There's no Mrs. Doctor Styles that Louis can tell, because all of Darcy's eagerly told stories involve either her daddy, her auntie Gemma, her grandmother Anne, or her daddy's friend Uncle Nick. Louis finds himself feeling a wave of jealousy whenever Uncle Nick gets mentioned, which is a lot because Darcy keeps mentioning sleepovers with the two of them.

The thing is, despite the fact that three year olds are totally honest, they're also super creative, so Louis has to keep telling himself that Darcy could be over-exaggerating some things. But the fact still remains: Doctor Styles is a mystery, albeit a rather highly attractive one, to Louis. They do get along pretty well whenever they meet, it's just that Louis knows that he knows very, very little about the young doctor and has no idea how to remedy that.

 

The term goes on while Louis tries to work out the mystery that is Doctor Styles, trying to work out what parts of little Darcy Styles' stories are true or not. Darcy, for her part, seems to come in daily with brand new stories.

“Uncle Nick got a new doggie,” Darcy announces to Louis while following him around the classroom one day, as fall blends into winter. The announcement comes with a full body sigh and pout that Louis can't even hide the smile that threatens to blossom at the sight.

“What's the doggie's name?” Louis asks brightly as he continues to set out construction paper for the afternoon project. All his other kids have combined with Eleanor's class for some much needed outdoor time before it snows, but Darcy had chosen to stay in with him. He'd agreed to it provided she help him, but her idea of helping has been to follow him about and tell him the tragic story of her daddy's friend getting a new dog.

“It's Pig. Who names a doggie Pig?” This question is followed by another full body sigh. The little girl picks at a piece of pink construction paper, looking incredibly despondent. “Daddy says Pig can't visit because Pig jumps lots.”

“You poor dear.” Louis can't help ruffling her hair as he adds markers to the pile before pausing and sitting in one of the small chairs. “You wanna draw a picture of Pig for me, Darce?”

Darcy scrunches up her nose as she sits down next to him, pulling the piece of pink paper toward her and selecting a purple marker with the attitude of someone going to the electric chair. Louis pulls a piece of white paper closer, picking up a blue marker.

“Tell you what,” He offers after a few moments of Darcy glowering at the paper. “I'll draw a picture with you. Draw whatever you like and I'll draw something and then we'll switch, okay?”

Darcy eyes him for a long moment before she nods, uncapping her marker and beginning to draw. They sit in companionable silence for half an hour, Louis glancing up at the clock on the far wall every few minutes to time them, before Darcy finally throws her marker down.

“Done!” She holds up her drawing proudly. Louis can make out a house and three people – one tall stick figure, one medium and one small – and what he thinks is supposed to be a dog. He points to the last.

“Is that Pig then?”

She peers at his finger, scrunching her nose up again. “No, that's Pussycat. We don't have her yet, but Daddy says I can have a kitten for Christmas if Father Christmas thinks I'm really good.” She peers up at him, suddenly worried. “Do you think I've been good?”

He smiles reassuringly. “You've been very good. I bet you'll definitely get a kitten for Christmas.” He points to the stick figures. “Is that your family then?”

Darcy studies the drawing for a bit, like she'd suddenly forgotten what she'd been drawing. “Oh, that's what I really wanted for Christmas.” She points to the little one. “That's me. And that's Daddy.” She points to the tallest of the three figures.

Louis can't help the sudden wave of jealousy that heats up the pit of his stomach as he makes himself point to the middle figure. “Is that Uncle Nick?”

Darcy stares up at him for another long moment before giggling. “No, silly! That's you!”

Louis stares back at her, finger still against the drawing, as he tries to process it, but the little girl doesn't seem to notice as she turns her attention back to the drawing.

“See, I heard Daddy tell Auntie Gemma that he thought you were really cute, but...” Darcy continues talking, but Louis immediately stops listening because his brain is still trying to process everything. Before he fully can, though, Eleanor comes back with both classes and Louis finds himself telling Eleanor he's suddenly come down with something and could she please take over his class as well as her own?

He dimly hears her agree reluctantly as he packs up his bag, hurrying out. He calls Principal Payne on his way out, giving Liam the same story about suddenly coming down with something and that he'll need the rest of the day and tomorrow off. Liam huffs like he wants to call Louis out on it, but he agrees.

Somehow he manages to make it home before it hits him. If Darcy isn't over-exaggerating in the way three year olds do, her dad likes him. Enough, apparently, that little Darcy would include him in a picture of the family she'd like to have.

Louis needs a nap. Maybe once he wakes up, he'll be back in reality.

 

The sound of his doorbell ringing wakes Louis up. He rubs his eyes, blearily glancing at his alarm clock. After his mild panic attack on coming home, he'd stripped and taken a nap. He'd been asleep for a few hours.

His doorbell rings again and he stumbles out of bed, grabbing a pair of trackies from his floor as he stumbles to the door. “Coming, coming, hold your horses.”

He swings the door open, still rubbing his eyes and grumbling to himself. “What do you-”

His voice trails off when he realises who's standing on his doorstep: Doctor Styles, looking faintly sheepish and more than a bit exhausted.

“Ms. Calder said you'd gone home feeling ill,” the young doctor says, sticking his hands in the pockets of his scrubs. Today, it's turquoise scrubs with Ariel the Little Mermaid kissing a dolphin on the top. Louis is _not_ going to read into the fact that Doctor Styles' scrubs today match Louis' eyes. “When I picked her up, I mean. Darcy.”

It takes a bit for Louis to follow Doctor Styles' train of thought before he remembers that he'd pawned his class off on Eleanor, claiming to be ill after Darcy had drawn a picture of him with her little family and a kitten she didn't have yet. Right. “Oh, nap fixed that.” He pauses, suddenly aware that he was standing in front of the parent of one of his pupils without a shirt on and trackies that have definitely seen better days. Even if he's had fantasies about said parent. “You do house calls now, Doctor Styles?”

Doctor Styles coughs, a blush creeping across his cheeks. “I'm your physician, Mr. Tomlinson, as well as a parent of one of your pupils. I just. Wanted to know you're okay. So I got my sister to babysit, so I could check up on you.” His gaze tracks down Louis' chest briefly. “Harry, by the way.”

Louis isn't going to think about the way the young doctor is looking at him in a far more friendly manner than expected between teacher and pupil's parent. Although it _is_ partially his own fault for opening the door in such a state. He grasps down on the man's words instead. “I beg your pardon?”

“My name.” The young doctor's eyes travel back up to Louis' face. “Harry.” He smiles, the dimples coming out in full force. “You didn't actually think my first name was Doctor, did you?”

To be honest, since he never caught the man's first name, Louis _had_ been convinced that was it. But he's not going to mention it now.

Instead, Louis smiles warmly. “Well, Harry, as you can see, I'm definitely feeling better. Like I said, nothing a nap couldn't cure.” He pauses a moment, recalling Darcy's comment about having overheard her father tell his sister that he thought Louis was cute. It might be stupid, but. No pain, no gain, right? “Unless you wanted to do a home exam to make sure?”

Harry's eyes snap back up to Louis' face before he's moving into the flat, hands coming up to cup Louis' cheeks as he leans in to kiss him deeply. Louis somehow manages to close and lock the door behind Harry before he tugs Harry in the direction of his bedroom.

Harry comes up for air with a laugh as he's tugged along. “Eager much, baby?”

“I've wanted you since you first came into that exam room and I thought you were a nurse.” Louis nips at Harry's lip, tugging off Harry's top and letting it fall to the hallway floor. “And who are you calling baby?”

“You, baby.” Harry grins devilishly, digging his feet in to break their passage as his hands slide into the back of Louis' trackies to cup his arse.

“You're a parent,” Louis scolds, scrunching his nose up before kissing the grin off Harry's face and working the scrub bottoms off Harry's lean legs. When he discovers that Harry's not wearing pants, he's just not going to process that nor does he have to. “I think there's some rule that you can't call your child's teacher baby.”

Harry tugs down the back of Louis' trackies, bringing a hand up to smack Louis' arse hard. It's pretty much enough for Louis' brain to shut down. “Pretty sure it gives me the right to want you to call me Daddy. And Daddy wants you, baby.”

“I'm not calling you Daddy.” Louis gripes, wondering if protesting will earn him another spank. He doesn't get it immediately, Harry moving him backwards toward the bedroom before sitting down and pulling Louis over his knee. He can't help the squirm against Harry's thigh when Harry shoves his trackies the rest of the way off.

“What was that, baby?” Harry asks, fingers ghosting along the sensitive skin of Louis' arse.

Louis' brain tries to shut down again, but he manages to pull himself together to respond. “I'm not calling you Daddy?”

Harry's hand comes down with another hard smack, making Louis jerk against his thigh. “ _What_ was that?”

Louis licks his lips, twisting a bit to look up at Harry. While he certainly doesn't mind being spanked again, especially when the person spanking him looks like Harry, it's been months since Louis got off with someone that wasn't his hand. “I'm sorry, Daddy.”

Harry looks incredibly pleased by that, hand gently rubbing Louis' arse. “Good baby. You gonna make it up to Daddy now?”

Louis nods, getting up when Harry moves his hand away. He leans in, nipping at Harry's lower lip again. “How can I make it up to you, Daddy?”

“You'll just have to fuck me, baby.” Harry curls his hand around the back of Louis' neck, leaning up for another deep kiss.

Louis groans into Harry's mouth. Somehow, he manages to fumble out lube and condoms from the drawer in the nightstand. As soon as the lube is out, Harry snatches it away from him and coats his fingers.

“Daddy...” Louis bites his lip, protest trailing off when Harry starts to work himself open, gaze locked on Louis.

“Thought about you a lot like this, baby.” Harry moans, eyes closing as he works a second finger in. “Doing this to you, having you do this to me.”

Louis' brain actually shuts down when Harry adds a third finger, but he comes back to the room when Harry rips the condom open and rolls it onto Louis.

“C'mon, baby.” Harry raises his hips in invitation. Louis doesn't need a second invitation, reaching for Harry's hips and pushing in with a slow groan.

“Oh _god_ , Daddy,” Louis manages to gasp out as he sinks into Harry's warm heat. “You feel so good.”

“ _You_ feel good, baby.” Harry wraps a leg around Louis' waist, arching up under him. “Now, c'mon, baby. Fuck Daddy good, yeah?”

Again, Louis doesn't need a second invitation, starting at a slow pace before picking up until they're both gasping and groaning with it. At some point, Harry's hand slides down between them, wanking himself off.

It feels like both a lifetime and a matter of heartbeats before they're both coming within minutes of each other. Louis collapses against Harry for a moment, trying to regain his breath before he rolls off to get rid of the condom.

“Get back here, baby.” Harry grumbles as soon as Louis' heat moves away. Louis smiles quietly, settling back down.

As they lay there in the afterglow, Harry's fingers ghosting along Louis' spine, Harry hums lazily. “I have a confession too.” Louis shifts to look up at Harry questioningly. Somehow, he knows that the statement doesn't require a response, and he's right when Harry continues a moment later. “I wanted you in the exam room too. And the classroom. And every other time I saw you.”

Louis rests his chin on Harry's chest, watching him. “Why didn't you say anything?”

Harry chuckles, eyes closing. “You're my patient and my daughter's teacher. Pretty sure that automatically makes you off-limits.”

Louis taps his fingers against Harry's sternum, eyes closing. “Will work on that. Tomorrow, though.”

“Tomorrow.”

 

Louis thinks that this is the best start to winter break ever. He'll certainly miss his kids, and once the new term starts, Darcy will be in Eleanor's class because Louis is dating Darcy's father, but it's still the best start ever.

Louis also thinks he likes the way the lights on the Christmas tree glitter in the dim light of the Styles' living room, especially when combined with the fire flickering in the fireplace. Across the room, an exhausted Darcy sleeps curled up with the tiny ball of fluff – Pussycat – that Louis had brought over earlier. Outside, it's just started to snow.

It's perfect, honestly. Well. Nearly perfect. Darcy has her cuddle buddy in little Pussycat, but Louis' curled up in a large chair by himself. This is not what he signed up for when he agreed to spend his Christmas break at the Styles household instead of his own flat, no matter how cute his new boyfriend and his boyfriend's little girl is.

As if aware of his thoughts, Harry comes in from the kitchen, passing a warm mug full of steaming tea into Louis' hand with a quiet smile as he situates himself in Louis' lap. “Hey.”

Louis kisses Harry's shoulder, echoing the smile. “Hey. Happy Christmas, Doctor Styles.”

The smile that Harry gives him is nearly as glimmering as the tree. “Happy Christmas.”

Definitely perfect now.


End file.
